


paint me black

by watchedyouburn



Category: Band of Brothers, The Pacific (TV)
Genre: M/M, Spy!AU, i hate my life, so that's what happens when i dream about joe liebgott lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 02:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8084023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchedyouburn/pseuds/watchedyouburn
Summary: So here he was, three hours and a crashed car later, watching helplessly as his brand-new beloved Prius was being crushed into a small compact cubicle.And to think that all Eugene had wanted to do was take a shortcut.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is unbeta'd so all mistakes and shortcomings are mine (and i'm posting it before going to sleep so i'll proof-read it in the morning). this is going to be a multi-chaptered fic and i have _no idea_ when i will be updated because i suck and write as fast as a rheumatic snail.
> 
> as always i mean no offense to the real men and only seek to represent the characters as portrayed by the actors in the HBO mini-series.
> 
> happy BOB anniversary!!

It all started like this: Eugene was late for class, so he’d taken a shortcut. 

On second thought, no, that wasn’t right. Eugene hadn’t been late for class. Eugene was _never_ late for class. He was always right on time – when he wasn’t half-an-hour early. No, Eugene _had not_ been late for class. 

His car, on the other hand… 

His car had broken down on him like the coward it was in the middle of residential Tuscaloosa. 

He was driving back to the campus of the University of Alabama – where he was a second year biology student – from his job at Waffle House in Northport when his car started emitting strange noises. Worried it would give up the ghost before he was close enough to UA he wouldn’t miss his first class of the day; he’d decided to avoid the probable dense morning traffic of the main Boulevard and had taken a right turn into a residential area in the main city center. It’d all been going rather smoothly, until his car had emitted one last sudden groan and shut down completely in the middle of a completely deserted street. 

It wasn’t like Eugene was lost. 

Eugene _knew_ Tuscaloosa. 

Eugene was an Alabama boy. He’d grown-up down south in Mobile and had been going on trips to the smaller city to visit his aunts and uncles since he was five years old. Eugene had learned to drive in the streets of Tuscaloosa, back when he was sixteen and his father had had his first heart attack and his aunt had offered to give him lessons during the holidays. He’d always knew he’d be going to the University of Alabama because it wasn’t like he cared about getting into an Ivy League college and he had no plans on leaving his state for now. He liked it here. He could drive back home at least two week-ends a month to see his dog Deacon and when that wasn’t the case his aunt almost always invited him and his roommate for lunch on Saturday (most of the time his roommate, Babe Heffron, would be nursing a hangover. Seeing him navigate the meanders of his hazy brain while trying to make a good impression would always crack Sledge up. Luckily for the nineteen years old boy, though, he had a talent for making older ladies swoon over him). 

So all in all, Eugene was not lost. He knew exactly where he was and was perfectly in control of the situation. 

Except that he wasn’t. 

His car had shut down right at the end of a turn and he was barely out, inspecting the damages, when another car came barrelling down the street as though it had the devil on its tail. The driver barely had the time to push on the brakes before colliding with his wonderful Prius. He had reacted quickly, but not quickly enough he could completely avoid crashing into his car. 

Eugene had had his mouth opened in an aborted attempt at warning him before he’d closed it and started panicking inwardly. 

So here he was, three hours and a crashed car later, watching helplessly as his brand-new beloved Prius was being crushed into a small compact cubicle. 

And to think that all he’d wanted to do was take a shortcut. 

**

“Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god _oh my god_. Are you okay? Are you hurt? I am so sorry; my car broke down so suddenly I didn’t have time to get off the road I am so sorry please tell me you are alive oh god oh god…” 

Eugene heard a loud string of swear words come from the car, one that would have made even Bill Guarnere, his roommate’s best friend, blush. Soon after, a brown-haired head perked out of the driver’s side window. The guy had a willowy, hard-edged face and a proper scowl that made Eugene shiver. He felt the blood leave his face as the other man stared at him ferociously. 

“Goddammit boy, shut the fuck up will you? You’ll draw the attention of the whole fucking neighbour on us with your screeching” he growled as he extracted himself from the fuming vehicle. 

Eugene was so choked by the crudity of his language it shut him up instantly. 

He blinked dazedly as the other man inspected the damages before his bewilderment got replaced by annoyance. 

“I beg your pardon?” he uttered between clenched teeth, determined to not let the other man treat him like that. 

The skinny guy lifted his head up and stared at him, raising a dubious eyebrow. He had a blazing tinge in his eyes that would have made anyone recoil in fear. Eugene refused to back off though. Nevermind the dark look this guy was throwing at him, he was _not_ going to let him walk all over him like that. 

“What the hell is your problem?” 

Eugene felt his temper flare up. 

“What the hell is _my_ problem?” he shouted, walking into the other man’s personal space. “You tell complete strangers to ‘shut the fuck up’ and I’m the one who’s got a problem?” 

The other man opened his mouth to retort, anger still burning in his eyes, before he seemed to reconsider and closed it. 

“Listen” he muttered, his expression shifting from anger to something much more professional. “Am sorry, alright? But can you please stop yelling? People aren’t supposed to know I’m here.” 

Eugene’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you mean you’re not supposed to be there?” He paused for a second before clenching his jaw in resolve. “Are you here to cause trouble? Because I won’t… I won’t let you.” 

So okay, maybe he was a little scared. He wasn’t going to let that guy get away, though. 

The man rolled his eyes. “Oh, for Christ’s sake” he sighed, pulling away from him. “Off fucking course not. Listen, I don’t have time for this.” 

He started turning around. Eugene grabbed him by the forearm, holding his phone in his other hand. The lanky man turned around and watched him intently. 

“If you don’t tell me why you’re here right now I’m calling the cops.” 

He started typing the number. He seemed completely in control, his face devoid of any emotion. Truth is, he felt like throwing up, and he was pretty sure his legs were going to buckle under his weight at any moment. 

The other guy sighed again and pinched the edge of his nose, but didn’t do any sudden move. To Gene’s greatest amazement, he actually started to laugh. 

“You know what, boy? I like you. You don’t look like it, but you've got some guts and I like that.” 

Eugene snorted in disbelief. “Have you seen yourself?” 

The other man smirked at him. It was such a twisted smile it almost looked like a leer. Eugene could practically picture the devil horns on the guy’s head. 

_Oh boy, I got myself in some troubles_ Eugene thought. That he was only realising that now probably was what was the most surprising. 

“Listen, boy, I…” the other man started before shutting up abruptly, frowning. He was staring intensely at a point behind Eugene. The student cast a glance in the direction of his gaze but could only see an average-looking, seemingly empty house. The guy remained like that for a few more seconds before glancing quickly at Sledge. 

“Did you see any activity in this house when you got out of your car earlier?” he whispered, his jaw set and a worried air about him. Eugene frowned as well. 

“What?” 

The other man did not answer. Instead he listened some more before grinding his teeth. 

“Shit” he let out suddenly, making Eugene jump in surprise. 

“What?” he asked again, now starting to feel panic rise in him (he didn’t understand what was going on but from the man’s tone it could only be bad). 

The other man didn’t pay him any attention though. He seemed to be thinking deeply, grumbling under his breath. Eugene was able to make out one or two swear words from time to time but the rest was indecipherable. So he shuffled slightly closer to him, all ears. 

“… car needs to disappear… noise coming from the house when they’re supposed to be gone… worse recon in the history of this company… wish Shifty was there; would confirm any sign of activity… who fucking let fucking Dike supervise this mission anyway… lack of preparation… whole mission… slapdash thing from the beginning anyway…” 

Eugene’s eyes widened as a shiver of dread ran down his spine. He was even more confused now, after hearing the guy rant about their situation. But if he had understood one thing, it was this: the guy was involved in some fishy business. There was no doubt about it. His previous suspicions rose to the front of his mind once again. 

“Are you a criminal?” he blurt out before cursing inwardly. _Way to go, Sledge. Keep asking him things like that and you’re going to end up dead in a ditch. What the hell has gotten into you?_

At least his interruption had the merit of getting the man to stop mumbling like a madman. 

Instead he stared at him with deep, unreadable brown eyes. 

“No” he answered abruptly. Then he grinned devilishly, his gaze sparkling with something that could only be pure mischief. “Well, not anymore” he added with a wink. 

This did not reassure Eugene _at all_. 

The guy rolled his eyes. It was obvious he was having tremendous fun at his expense, though. “I’m not going to kill your sorry ass, don’t worry. I don’t do that anymore.” 

Eugene gulped audibly. All fake confidence he might have had earlier was long gone by now. 

“A… anymore?” he squeaked without meaning to. He winced. He hadn’t meant to sound like a terrified chicken, but his brain had apparently decided otherwise. 

“Yeah. And even then I only killed people I was contracted to, so don’t stress yourself” he answered casually. Eugene’s breath caught in his throat. 

A hitman. He had gotten in a car accident with a hitman. Moreover, he had _yelled_ at a hitman. 

He could almost see it now. He hadn’t really paid attention to it before – he was too busy getting angry at him – but the man was wearing one of those movie-like suit that screamed ‘FBI agent’ or ‘gang member’ depending on the context. And he had that threatening air to him – as though he’d end you if you did so much as to stare at him for more than one second. 

“Oh for God’s sake, boy, quit looking at me like that. I told you already, I’m not going to kill you.” He paused and rubbed his chin with his hand in a thoughtful gesture. “I could use your help actually.” 

That got Eugene to stop having a mental breakdown. He stared at the man as though he was totally insane – which, let’s face it, he probably was. 

“Wh… What?” he uttered out for the third time that morning, dumbfounded. 

The guy looked at him as though he was a complete moron. He seemed to consider for a while; but eventually he just sighed and shook his head. 

“Look. I wouldn’t be doing this if I had a choice. I don’t make it a habit of involving civilians while I’m working. Let’s just say that in my line of work, the less people know about my existence the better. But the house was supposed to be empty. It’s not and I’m gonna need someone to distract them while I break into the office through the back door. So here’s what we’re gonna do: you’re going to ring their bell and tell them that a guy crashed into your car, that you tried to confront him about it and it broke into a dispute and that eventually, the guy just left and threatened to punch you or some shit when you tried to stop him. They’ve heard the noise when our cars collided; that much is certain. And you’re basically the embodiment of every boy scouts ever combined so they won’t be suspicious of you. They’ve probably seen me with you so they have to think you really did try to keep me from running away; wouldn’t be able to explain why we stayed so long chatting otherwise. I need five minutes. Do you think you can do that for me?” 

Eugene stared at him owlishly, mouth hanging opened. “You… you want me to… lie to people I don’t know while you break into their house? For five whole minutes?” he stuttered incredulously, trying to make sense of the whole thing. This was crazy. That guy was crazy. Was he even awake? It felt as though he was dreaming. Maybe that was it; maybe he was dreaming. 

He discretely pinched himself and almost yelped because of how hard he had done it and the unexpected burst of pain it caused. 

Okay. So definitely not dreaming then. 

“Yes. Do you have it in you to do it? I need an answer right now.” 

The man was one-hundred percent serious now. All trace of mischief or amusement had disappeared from his face, which made Eugene’s stomach twist. He had the utmost certitude the guy wasn’t messing with him. Whatever this was, it was big. Probably related to government secret actions and obscure political scheming or something like that. He could not believe those spy movies Babe loved so much – and made him watch more or less forcefully – were colliding with his life so directly. His roommate would be green with jealousy when he’d tell him. 

Wait. 

Could he even tell him? Was such a thing something he could recount? Knowing Babe, whether it was believable or not would probably not be an issue. As much as he loved his friend, the guy could be a bit gullible from times to times. 

But would he be allowed to tell him? Would he be _able_ to? And more importantly, what would he have to tell? He had a decision to make. 

Was he courageous – or stupid – enough to play along with this man he did not even know the name of? Did he have it in him? 

Whoever those people were in this house, they were probably dangerous. Some criminals of some sort or traitors or spies for an enemy country (those movies were really getting to his head). Whatever would unravel here, Eugene’s life might end up being in danger. 

Was he ready to risk it? He’d always been the perfect, proper boy. Good grades, good behaviour; the kind of son everyone dreamed of. He’d never walked out of the lines of what was lawful or even expected of him. He’d always done what he was told to. Behave, speak softly, get an education. Perpetuate the traditional politeness of his Southern education. Just as the guy had said: he was a walking cliché; the Boy Scout who rescued lost kittens from threes. 

Was he, though? 

“Let’s do it” he said, his jaw clenched, his eyes set. He could feel anticipation bubble in the pit of stomach; a mix of apprehension and excitement. 

The other man eyed him suspiciously. “You sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

**

“What’s your job anyway?” Eugene asked out of the blue. They were crouching behind the car; reviewing the plan – God, Eugene felt as though he was a secret service agent or a soldier or something everytime this word crossed his mind. He still did not know much about the man. Which was kind of stupid, he realised. He couldn’t just follow the man’s instruction without having any clear information about him or what he was doing. 

“Oh yeah. Can’t really tell you that.” 

“I don’t even know your name” Sledge pointed out. “For all I know you could be a lunatic or a murderer or, I don’t know.” 

The older man smirked but seemed to consider it. “Fair enough. The name’s Joe, boy.” 

Eugene raised a dubitative eyebrow. He did not think it would be that easy. Joe didn’t seem to mind telling him, as though it wasn’t such a big secret after all. Maybe it wasn’t. 

“Is that even your real name?” he asked; because you never know. 

Joe grinned deucedly. “Oh, I see how it is. Not trusting me, huh? But you’re right; following me blindly would be quite naïve and idiotic of you.” His grin widened and he winked at Eugene. “All I can tell you is that I work for a governmental organisation and that I’m officially not a criminal right now. Whether or not you believe me is something you’re gonna have to figure out for yourself.” 

“You truly work for the American government?” Eugene couldn’t help but ask. It seemed so surreal. He still felt as if he was dreaming. 

Joe nodded. “That’s what I’m telling you. But that’s neither here nor there. We’ve been standing around for too long; we need to act now. Are you ready?” 

Eugene took a sharp intake of breath and gave him a resolved look. "Yeah. You're sure they won't suspect anything?" 

"Nah. Nothing has moved for a while now. They probably checked what's the fuss was about and then went back into hiding. They try to be as normal and as unnoticeable as they can so as to not raise suspicion." 

"What is it they do already?" Eugene pried. He hadn't been able to learn a lot from the man - Joe - and his job so far. It wasn't for lack of trying; but the guy wasn't so easily fooled. 

"Let's just say some powerful organisations have been looking for them for a while now." 

"Sounds serious." 

"Betcha. Didn't help that they went into exile in the middle of fucking nowhere. Who in their right mind goes to fucking Alabama?" 

"Hey!" 

Joe smirked snidely at him and Eugene rolled his eyes. He couldn't stop the smile from curling at the corner of his lips though. For all his snark and rudeness, the brown-haired man was quite likeable. Eugene wondered for a second if it was part of his job; being charismatic enough people would feel drawn to him despite their better judgement. 

Or maybe it was just him; maybe he was finally fed up with doing everything everyone expected of him. Maybe he was tired of being the proper, well-behaved southern boy and craved adventure. 

Maybe he was just being extremely foolish; putting himself in danger and openly looking for troubles. 

He'd be lying if he said he didn't like it. 

"I'm going now. Wait until I disappear from sight then go knock on their door." 

Eugene nodded. Joe crawled out from behind the car, shouted a very vehement 'A ain't paying fo ya car!' that could more or less pass for a southern drawl before seemingly storming off towards the end of the street (in reality branched off toward the house). 

Eugene got up and put on the best hopeless face he was capable of. He'd never been a good actor; but the adrenaline was getting to him. 

_I can pull this off_ he told himself. Self-confidence was the key. 

Before he could double think on it, he crossed the street and rang the doorbell. There was a moment when he thought they simply would not answer: he had been waiting for a full minute at least yet he could not hear any commotion indicating they planned on opening the door. He was about to ring again when finally footsteps were heard coming from inside. The door opened on an old, wrinkled lady with the less prepossessing expression Eugene had ever seen. Although she ought to be over eighty years old, she gave the impression that she could kill you if she wanted to. 

Needless to say, Eugene was feeling far from confident at present. 

"What do you want?" she barked out meanly. Eugene fidgeted uncomfortably, his gaze leaving her unrelenting one to meet that of an elderly man. His eyes widened as he nodded silently at the man. He had not realised both of them had been there; he had already been planning a way to have them both occupied by the time the woman had opened the door and not having to was an immense relief. 

"I am so sorry to bother you at home" he began, offering his most polite smile and his most contrite air to them - thank god for his traditional southern upbringing, he thought - "but someone crashed into my car and left it like that in the middle of the road. I tried to hold them back and asked that they would pay for the damages but they refused to do it." 

The old woman stared blankly at him, utterly unconcerned. 

"What that have to do with us?" She sounded annoyed now. Eugene gulped audibly. At least his nervousness could be mistaken for some sort of fearfulness. 

"Oh, off course. Is it possible to use your phone? I don't have any battery left on mine and I need to call a mechanic. I was also wondering if you'd happened to see the accident, by any chance?" 

She narrowed his eyes at him and Eugene smiled apologetically. "See, I'm scared the insurance company won't believe me when I explain what happened. You know how those people are: always finding excuses not to give you your money back." 

He had a cousin who worked for an insurance company; and it felt quite rude to criticise them like that. But drastic time called for drastic measures and he had a feeling criticising any type of official organisation might do the trick. 

The lady didn't really seem convinced. Eventually though, she turned around and barked out. "Jack! Come here." 

The man, who had not said a thing since Eugene had rung the bell, walked forward and smiled politely at him. He seemed a lot more agreeable than who Eugene guessed must be his wife. But then again, maybe he was just better at pretending. 

"I'm afraid neither of us owns a mobile phone. But I can checked the damages and with luck your car will be functional enough to drive to the nearest mechanic." 

Eugene felt the blood curl in his veins. Had he not know better, he would have missed the forced smile as his wife whispered in his ear. 

They were obviously trying to get rid of him as ft as possible. 

Eugene was starting to feel anxious. Had Joe had enough time to do what needed? How long could it take, to break into a house? The young man didn't have a clue, but still, would five minutes really be enough? He also had to find the informations he needed. And it hadn't even been five minutes anyway. Eugene had to find a way to distract them for a while longer without suspicion and he was at a loss for what to do. 

Guess he'd have to make it up as he went along. 

"That would be _amazing_!" he exclaimed, trying his best to sound grateful. "But really, I don't want to be any trouble! You're not even dressed, I wouldn't want you to feel obliged to do so just to help me." 

The man nodded politely. "It is quite alright." 

"I could..." 

"Listen here, boy. My husband is going to help you and then you'll leave. The less we talk, the quicker it'll be done. We don't need this mindless conversation." 

Eugene eyed her owlishly. "I am truly sorry madam. I know I'm being a huge hindrance to you and I appreciate your help." 

God, she was terrifying. 

"Please excuse my wife" the man whispered sheepishly, "she doesn't like strangers very much." 

"Oh, I understand. It's my fault for bothering you, really. I can leave if you want, I just..." Eugene replied, as contritely as he could sound. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled awkwardly. 

The ginger was scared as hell, but acting was easier to him than he would have thought, and the funniest part was that it was all because the old couple was playing a part as much as he was. 

Joe only had only given him the main outline but he'd been clear on something: that old, apparently harmless couple living in the middle of nowhere - as he had put it - was anything but. They had been at the head of an infamous cartel in San Diego back in the 70s and the 80s. The FBI had been adamant on chasing them from the beginning, but with the rampant corruption, they'd manage to learn about it and completely disappear just as the Agency was closing in on them. Now, more than thirty years later, they'd finally been found living a seemingly suburban, inoffensive life in one of the less eventful state in the whole country. All that was needed was a proof of their new identity. 

And it was Joe's job, now with Eugene's help, to get it. 

Eugene had been so anxious they would refuse to help him; but Joe had told him they had a carefully built reputation to uphold in their neighbour and would have no other choice but to appear as helpful and as polite as possible. He had turned out to be right. Eugene could feel they were uncomfortable and wanted him gone. Yet he could also see they tried their best to live up to a certain Southern standard. Smacking the door in his face would have weakened their act as a middle-class, well-bread couple from the old South. 

_"Isn't this going to put me in danger? When they learn when and where the information condemning them was obtained?" he'd ask Joe as soon as he'd been done with his explanation, worry crawling low in his stomach._

_"They won't be able to link anything back to you, that much I promise. The organisation I work for has the means to render you completely untraceable."_

_Eugene had made a face, not totally convinced. Joe had sighed and buried his brown eyes into his._

_"Look, if I thought they could be in a position to put you or any of your relation in danger, I'd never have never asked for your help. I swear to you, Eugene Sledge, that they won't come after you. But the more we wait, the harder it's going to be."_

Eugene could see now that they did not suspect him. His polite demeanour as well as his Southern accent must have had lulled them into some sort of relative thrust, even though it was obvious they were being on their guard out of habit. And he couldn't raise their suspicions. 

"Maybe you can rapidly explain to me where the nearest mechanic is and I'll go there right now. The car still works, it's just annoying that the other guy left. If you show me on a map it'll be quick and then I'll stop being a bother to you. You know what," he added, not giving them the time to respond, "let's forget about the 'witness' part of it. It's completely pointless and I wouldn't want you to be more bothered than needed by this whole story. After all, you're not involved with the accident at all, you just happen to live across it!" 

He was starting to run out of ideas to keep them occupied and he was legitimately worried they'd start suspecting something if he kept pushing it. He was especially scared they'd remember that particular occurrence when they'd be arrested and would ask their old acquaintances to track him down or something. Nonetheless, it hadn't been five minute yet; he couldn't just leave now. He figured them explaining would take long enough, especially if they had to look for a map. 

He glanced quickly at his watch and bit his lower lip in an attempt to look time-bound. It was early enough they could think he was heading to work and was worried he would be late. 

If Sid had been there, he would have been blown away by how effortlessly the ever so politically correct Sledge was sliding into lies and deception. He himself was slightly bewildered, if he must say. He honestly would have never thought he had it in him. 

"You seem in a hurry" the woman said, narrowing her eyes. 

Eugene scratched the back of his head, looking contrite. "I'm already quite late for work I'm afraid." 

"That's why we shouldn't waste any more time" her husband spoke up. "I'll give you the directions." 

** 

Eugene was driving, his heart hammering in his chest and his fingers clenched on the wheel when a man appeared from seemingly nowhere and nodded at him. Letting out a breath of relief, Sledge pulled over and opened the side door. 

"Everything okay?" he asked as soon as the other man was within earshot. 

"Yeah. I stayed a bit behind to make sure and they don't suspect a thing. Their neighbour rang them ten minutes later to have a chat with the man about the accident and he didn't seem to think twice about it." 

Eugene nodded. "What do we do now?" 

Joe smirked lavishly at him and Eugene felt dread start to fill his to stomach. 

"Now we get rid of the cars." 

"We get rid of..." He paused, frowning. "What do you mean 'the cars'? What does my car has to do with anything?" 

"Well we can't have them find it and trace it back to you now can we? So we destroy it and change the serial number and the license plate so as to not link it back to you." 

“We do _what_?” Eugene gritted between his teeth, slamming the brakes so hard at the red light Joe jerked forward uncontrollably. He straightened up and grinned at Sledge mischievously. 

“You know what I said. Me repeating it isn’t gonna make this any easier.” 

“My mom and dad gave me this car!” 

He loved his car. It was a Prius and his parents had offered it to him as a gift to celebrate his admission into UA. It was small and cosy and eco-friendly and _exactly_ the kind of car that fitted him. All of his friends – especially Bill Guarnere, who never missed a chance to make a joke on his ‘rabbit hole’, as he called it – made fun of it, but he loved it. It was his first car. It was _his_ car. 

Joe shrugged. “Yeah, well. You can’t afford to keep it.” He turned his gaze to him, suddenly serious. “Listen, Eugene, I know it sucks, but you don’t got no choice. I promised no harm would come to you or your family. In this scenario, the car is a liability. And before you say we can just change the license plate and it’ll be all forgotten about, the answer is no. You have no idea how easy it is to trace back a car to its previous owner. Everything here could link back to you. Particularly now that it needs repairing. So that’s a no go.” 

Eugene frowned unhappily. Deep down, he knew Joe was right. Didn’t mean he had to like it though. 

“What about _your_ car?” he asked bitterly for lack of any solid argument. 

“That’s taken care of. Speaking of…” 

As he was speaking, Joe had reached out for his phone in his pocket before glancing at the caller’s ID appearing on the screen. He unlocked it and brought it to his ear, a small smile playing on his lips. “Talbert, my man. Is it done?” 

Eugene could hear a deep voice talking on the other end of the phone. He couldn’t make out what that ‘Talbert’ person was saying though, and wondered idly if there was some kind of unit whose job was to destroy cars in Joe’s job. 

“Good. I’ll catch up with you later okay? Still gotta take care of some things.” He took a short break as the other man was answering. “Yeah, that. I know. I’ll deal with it later.” Another short break. “Don’t worry about it Tal. It’s _safe_. Talk to you later. Bye.” 

He hanged up. Eugene waited for an explanation, but none came. 

“Turn left there.” 

The red-head obeyed without protests. 

“Where are we going anyway?” he asked, because he’d been following Joe’s directions and was only now realising he didn’t even know their destination. 

Eugene was almost a hundred per cent sure Joe was emitting a little gleeful glow as he answered. 

“You’ll see.” 

Eugene sighed but said nothing. They drove for another twenty minutes until it was finally made clear to Eugene what had been their destination. As he turned on one last, dirt road, he started to see the carcasses of ancient, abandoned cars in the distance. He kept on driving silently until they reached the place and, as he drove past an old, rusty board that read ‘Hinkel & sons cars & repairs’, his curiosity finally got the best of him. 

“What are we doing here? The place is clearly derelict and has been for a long time.” 

Joe winked playfully. “Exactly. Turn left right there behind that blue Chevrolet.” 

Eugene snorted derisively but did as he was told. At that point it wasn’t worth arguing anyway. 

“It should be…” the young man heard his passenger mumble. “Yeah, here. Stop right here.” 

Eugene pulled the brake and turned the engine off. He sat back against his seat and stared pointedly at Joe. 

“What now?” 

The other man smirked wickedly and got out of the car. Eugene did the same, glancing around as he went. It was obviously a car depot. Some looked more damaged than others. There were even some that seemed as though they could still drive you for a while. 

“Now we make your car disappear” Joe replied eventually. Eugene followed his gaze to a long, red container and raised an eyebrow in scepticism. 

“Hum… Yeah? Do you plan on hiding it inside that or something?” 

Joe’s smiled looked positively delighted. To be honest, it reminded him of the way he looked on Christmas morning as he discovered the presents under the Christmas three, when he was a child. 

“Give me your car keys.” 

“What?” 

“Come on, give me your keys.” 

Eugene narrowed his eyes at him but Joe just shrugged, still grinning. The young man sighed and threw his car keys at him. Joe caught them in one hand, barely glancing up as he opened the car door. 

“If you have things to take now is the time.” 

Eugene hastily emptied the glove compartment from all his content and checked the trunk. He then gave Joe a thumbs-up. The other man turned the engine on. 

“Hop in, Gene!” 

He drove the few meters to the container, at which point Eugene realised it wasn’t, in fact, a container, but a machine that was used to crush cars and turn them into aluminium rectangles. The ginger gulped audibly, feeling extremely uncomfortable. 

“You see that panel over there?” Joe asked him suddenly, pointing to their right. Eugene’s eyes followed his pointed finger to a grey box with a lever and a few buttons. “I need you to turn the machine on. You just have to push the green button and pull the lever. Can you do that?” he asked. 

Eugene nodded affirmatively, his gaze anchored on the box. 

“Nice. I’ll drive the car to the top so it can be pushed into it.” 

“Is it safe?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Joe replied absentmindedly. Weirdly enough, Eugene was unconvinced. 

They set out to work. Eugene got out of the car and walked over to the lever box as Joe drove off. A few second later he appeared atop the runway leading to the hole. When he was out of the car, he gave Eugene the signal and the red-head followed his instructions. The noise the machine made in this deserted car cemetery was deafening. Eugene winced, watching as Joe started the car again before jumping quickly out of the way. But in doing so, he lost his balance. The last thing Eugene saw of him was his raised arm as he fell backward. 

“Joe!” he cried out, running towards the place where he’d fallen. Turning around the corner of the red device, he let out a sigh of relief as he saw the other man get up, apparently unhurt. That is, until he noticed the flow of blood running from his arm. 

“You’re hurt!” 

Joe smiled wildly at him. “I’m good Sledge! It’s all good! That was awesome! Did you see how it got crushed? Awesome!” 

Eugene forcefully grabbed his arm and took a good look at it. “No you’re not! You need to go to the hospital!” 

“No way.” 

Eugene stared at him incredulously. “What do you mean ‘no way’?! Yes way! You need stitches!” 

“Yes yes, I know. But don’t worry. First let’s find you a car that’ll work enough to drive you home. People love waste. They get rid of perfectly working cars just because they don’t like them anymore you know.” 

“What are you on about?” 

Joe looked at him as though he were dumb. “You need a car. To get back into town.” 

“But what about you?” Eugene asked anxiously. 

“I’ll get myself taken care of, don’t worry.” 

Eugene narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You need to check in into an hospital. I’m driving you to the nearest one, _now_.” 

Joe shook his head. “No hospital. Can’t risk blowing up my cover by leaving a trail there.” 

“But what about your wound?” Eugene yelled, on the verge of hysteria. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I know the perfect guy for the job.” 

Eugene scoffed. “Oh yeah? Does this ‘guy’ happen to live anywhere in the vicinity?” 

Joe threw him a wondering look. “No…? He lives down in New Orleans but what does that have to do with anything?” 

Eugene crossed his arms, watching him sternly. “There’s no way I’m letting you go all the way to New Orleans. Certainly not on your own.” 

“He’ll meet me halfway. I sent him a message with my location he’ll know…” 

“I don’t care” Eugene cut him off. 

The injured man looked surprised for a second. He let out a sharp laugh. “I can take care of myself, don’t wo…” 

“ _I don’t care_ ” he stated firmly. “If you think for a second that I am going to let you drive all the way to fucking _Louisiana_ while you’re bleeding out then you are gravely mistaken. I am _not_ letting you out of my sight.” 

Joe seemed taken aback by Eugene’s sheer determination. 

“But…” 

“Don’t you ‘but’ me, Joe. New Orleans is at least a four-hour drive from here. You’re losing way too much blood. You don’t want to check into a hospital? Fine, I get it. But I’m not letting you drive.” 

The older man ran a hand through his dark, dishevelled hair. He hesitated for a moment before sighing in defeat. 

“Fine” he snapped. It was obvious he didn’t like being ordered around. Well, a taste of his own medicine couldn’t hurt was what Gene thought. 

“Good. Now let’s get you patched up the best we can and get the hell out of there.” 

**

The car ride was silent for the most part. It was only broken off when Eugene asked Joe where they were going once they’d left the state of Alabama and Joe had grumbled the address of some motel near Laurel, Mississippi, approximately two hours away from Tuscaloosa. Eugene didn’t care. Joe wanted to brood? Fine. It was his problem. It wasn’t going to stop him from doing the right thing. It didn’t matter that Joe was ‘used to it’ or that there were things he wanted to keep hidden from him because he wasn’t a spy or whatever. He was _not_ abandoning a hurt, bleeding man to drive for hours on end without proper care. That was just not something Eugene Sledge would do. 

Eventually they reached the motel around lunch time. Eugene turned into the driveway and parked the car. As soon as he’d turned off the engine Joe got out and slammed the door shut. Eugene rolled his eyes but followed suit as the other man strode purposefully towards one of the motel doors. The young man was wondering how he knew which door to go for until he noticed a red shirt hanging on the doorknob. He arched an inquisitive eyebrow as Joe pounded on the door. There were footsteps coming from inside the room and soon after Eugene heard the sound of a lock being unfastened. 

The door opened on a young, weary-looking man with jet black hair and skin so pale Eugene worried he might drop dead at any moment (which was saying something, considering he was not the most tanned person ever himself). The man eyed them warily. There was an intense gleam to it when it hovered over you, as though he was staring into your soul, that made Eugene shift uncomfortably. 

“Doc” Joe greeted, seemingly unfazed by it. 

“Joe” the raven-haired man acknowledged. “Come on in” he added softly, stepping aside. He had a heavy accent – French, maybe? – and his voice came out as a low, deep rumble that immediately made Gene feel at ease. He nodded to him as he walked past but as soon as they both were in his focus immediately went to Joe’s arm. 

“Show me” he ordered sharply. Joe rolled his eyes but did as told nonetheless and unwrapped his forearm from the – third, if Eugene might supply, as the other two had been drenched in blood alarmingly quick – bandage. The wound wasn’t bleeding anymore. But it was swollen; and one sudden gesture would be more than enough to open it up again. 

The ‘Doc’ took one look at the gash and frowned even more, which Eugene didn’t even think possible. “Sit down” he instructed as he started rummaging through a light brown messenger bag. Eugene kept on lurking uneasily near the doorway as Joe took place on one of the bed. 

“How long since the injury?” the Doc asked to no one in particular. 

“At least two hours and fifteen minutes. He's lost quite a lot of blood” Eugene replied without thinking. He blushed then, not sure he was the one supposed to answer, but the man’s gaze was unmistakably warmer when he lifted his head up and looked at him. 

“Thank you” he muttered quietly as he started swabbing at the cut. Joe winced when he applied alcohol on it and he threw him a deathly glare. “That’ll teach you; acting recklessly like a goddamn five years old all the time. It’s a good thing your friend was there to save your dumb ass.” 

Joe looked positively offended at that. “He did _not_!” 

The Doc rolled his eyes but didn’t reply. Instead, he turned his iridescent gaze to Eugene. “Thank you for that. The idiot won’t say it but thank you.” 

Joe shouted an outraged ‘hey!’ as Eugene waddled uncomfortably, still standing near the door. The older man nodded toward one of the chair in an indication to sit down. The red-head shuffled to it while running his hand through his hair in embarrassment. 

“It wasn’t anything, really” he sputtered. 

The Doc shook his head, dropping the cotton swabs in a small plastic bag and seizing a needle and some string. Without any warning he began to stitch the wound up, making Joe wince again. “Still. The name’s Eugene Roe by the way.” 

Eugene blinked in perplexity. “Huh?” 

“My name. It’s Eugene Roe” he repeated really slowly, as though he were talking to a small child. “But everyone call me Doc.” 

Eugene grinned awkwardly. “Oh. I’m Eugene. Eugene Sledge.” 

Eugene Roe’s mouth stretched into a half-smile when he heard his name. Joe was smiling broadly at the both of them. 

“Doc’s the best there is out there Sledge. He’s a miracle-worker, stitched me all up more than once. Best medic on this side of the Atlantic let me tell you.” 

Eugene’s head slightly bent on the side in a sign of curiosity. “I see. Do you work for Joe’s organisation then?” 

The Doc scoffed. “Nah. I’ve known Joe Liebgott way before he settled down and crossed to the legal side of things.” 

They exchanged a knowing look at that, and Eugene immediately saw that whatever history they had it was heavy and not pretty. 

“So you’re some sort of underground doctor then?” he asked, utterly curious and not pretending to hide it anymore. 

A startled laugh escaped Roe’s mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you could say that” he answered with amusement just as he finished sewing the last bit of the wound. “Here, you’re all set buddy” he said then, clapping Joe on the back. “I’m going to bandage it to not risk it but it should heal up nicely. You got lucky; the wound looked messy but it wasn’t actually that deep. I want you to come see me next week so I can check on you though okay? And if you feel dizzy you _call me_ ” 

Joe hummed non-committedly, already up. Doc Roe glared menacingly at him. “ _Okay?_ ” he repeated more forcefully. Eugene shivered. By the Lord, this man was _not_ messing around. 

“Yes Doc, I will. Stop being such a mom.” 

Doc Roe pinched the edge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and sighed. Eugene got up again, biting his lips. 

“I need to, hum… get back to Tuscaloosa. I’ll have missed a whole day of class by the time I get back and I don’t want my roommate to worry.” 

The Doc’s eyes widened in shock. 

“Wait; you’re not working with Lieb?” 

Eugene shot him a confused look. “I… no?” 

Roe’s gaze darkened menacingly. “You let an inexperienced civilian in on one of your mission? What the hell Lieb?” he muttered in cold furry. 

Joe raised both of his hands in a defensive gesture. “I didn’t have a choice! We got into a car wreck and I don’t have the time to explain everything but using him was the easiest thing to do!” 

The Doc clenched his jaw and Eugene saw Joe grow pale a little bit as he realised it was the wrong thing to say. 

“It was the _easiest thing to do_?! For Christ’s sake Joe, how foolish can you get? Endangering untrained men like that? Do rules really mean _nothing_ to you?” the medic barked out. Joe rubbed his hand against his brow and sighed. 

“I had it under control, Gene. Nothing could have happened to him.” 

“But what if it had? What then? It’s not the problem, Joe! The problem is you always being so rash and careless!” 

“Listen there, Doc…” Joe growled, pointing a finger at him. Before he could do anything else though, Eugene had stepped in between the two of them and broke them off. 

“Guys, guys, calm down. Please. I’m fine. I just want to go home now; I still have to drive there and I have no car. So please stop fighting and help me solve this problem.” 

At first the two men did not move, eyeing each other defiantly. But then Eugene looked at the Doc pleadingly and he gave in with a weary sigh. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry you got meddled in this Eugene… whatever this is.” 

The silence stretched on then, as Roe stared at Joe pointedly. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry too” he blurted out gruffly eventually, not quite looking at either of them. The Doc grinned smugly. “About the car thing, you can take the one I sto… retrieved from the depot. I’ll meet up with you in a week with a brand new car okay, exactly the same brand as you had before. It’ll be like you never lost it. And you can’t talk to anyone about any of this off course. Alright?” 

“Alright. How do I know you will show up though?” Eugene asked sceptically. 

Joe’s trademark devilish grin made an appearance again. 

“You’ve trusted me thus far” he replied snidely. 

Eugene nodded. “Fair enough.” 

He smiled politely to Eugene Roe, and threw one last, long look at the specimen that was Joe Liebgott. “See you in a week, then” he said before turning around and leaving the motel room. 

**

Eugene had barely gone through the door of his place before he was greeted by a bouncing ginger ball of energy. 

“Gene! Oh my God!” his roommate shouted, his Philly accent particularly pronounced with nervous relief, trampling on madly all around him. “Where the fuck were ya, man? Ya didn’t show up at lunch an’ ya were nowhere aroun’! We even checked the library an’ ya weren’t there! Bill was crazy worried ya know?” 

“What Babe means, Sledge” a low, amused voice pipped up from their couch, “is tha’ Babe spent the day cryin’ like the little boy he is an’ plannin’ ya funeral. It was annoyin’ as hell. Please next time ya disappear, warn us, so I can avoid him until further notice.” 

“Hey!” Babe bit back indignantly, glaring daggers at a grinning Guarnere. “Ya the one who wanted ta go on a search party remember?” 

“Fuck ya Heffron.” 

Eugene smile indulgently at their banter. It was nice and familiar and after the day he had it almost made him feel normal.

**Author's Note:**

> as always comments and kudos are appreciated! i know it starts slow but i had to set the universe up first. i promise it'll get more ""romantic"" in the next chapters though ;)
> 
> come hit me up on my [ tumblr](http://jilying.tumblr.com/)! :D


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